Luyện nghe bài hát Halftime (Butcher Remix)

Check me out y'all, Nasty Nas in your
About to mass hysteria

Before a blunt, I take out my
Then I to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt
You couldn't catch me in the without a ton of reefer
That's like Malcolm X the Jungle Fever
poetic, too much flavor, I'm major
Atlanta and braver, I a number like a pager
I'm am ace when I face the bass
40 side is the place is giving me grace
Now wait, dose and you might be dead
And I'm a Nike head, I wear that excite the feds
And ain't' a damn thing gonna
I'm a a strange show the mic wonder was born the game?
Nas, why did you do it
You you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it's halftime

It's

It's like that, you know it's that
I got at him, now you get the mic back
When I attack, there ain't an army that could back
So I react never calmly on a track
I set it off wit my own
I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone time
I'm max like cassettes, I flex sex
In your sets, Nas will catch wreck
I used to hustle, now all I do is relax and
When I was young, I was a fan of the 5
I jewels, wear jewels to never run it
Wit more kicks than a baby in a mother's
Nas has to rise, kid, surprise
This is exercise til the dies
in '83, I was an MC sparking
But I was too scared to grab the in the park and
Kick my little raps 'cause I niggas wouldn't understand
And now in every jam I'm the man
I rap in of more niggas than in the slave ships
I used to watch C.H.I.P.S, now I load clips
I got to it, I miss Mr Magic
Versatile, my style switches like a
But not a bisexual, I'm an
Of rap, I'm a professional and no question, yo
These are the lyrics of the man, you can't it, understand
in the streets, I'm well known like the number man
In my place wit the bass and
rap and tell me Nas ain't all that
And next time I rhyme, I be whenever I freestyle
I see niggas say I'm wow
I hate a rhyme rhyme
Stay tuned, Nas, soon the real rap comes at

It's

I got it on, even flip 'em on this song
Every afternoon, I kick the tune
And in the darkness, I'm heartless when the narcs hit
to Marcus Garvey or heartless Sparkton
'cause when I blast the herb, my word
I be slaying fast, doing this, that in the third
But chill, past the and let's lay
I bag up at John Jay and hit a matinee
Putting on 5-0
when it's my time to go, I wait for God wit the fo-fo
And biters come near
And yo, go to to the foul cop who shot Garcia
I won't seeds, don't need an extra mouth I can't feed
extra Phillie change, more cash for that weed
This out to Manhattan, the island of Staten
Brooklyn, Queens is fat and
The Boogie Down, enough props, clout
I'll will, in peace, yo, I'm out

still halftime